


Little Known Facts

by adjit



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6397189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adjit/pseuds/adjit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They aren't secrets, really, but everyone has a story and not all of them get told. Understanding can only be achieved with all the facts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plagg

**Author's Note:**

> #plaggcares2k16

 

> _Fact: Plagg understood the role of Chat Noir better than anyone else. Chat Noir was Ladybug’s partner, her equal, her balance. He was the inky shadow thrown by the brilliant blaze of her red. But as well as Plagg knew that, Chat Noir never really could, because in the end, only Ladybug could purify and heal the world. Chat Noir was necessary and important and just as much of a hero as Ladybug. But his role was to throw everything away to save her. To be her sword and her shield, her last line of defense. She could always bring him back, and he would throw himself away again and again for her. It was a horrible, hard, unfair role, but Plagg’s job was almost harder because he had to watch the lost souls who were looking for something worth dying for._

 

Adrien fiddles with the ring on his finger, and Plagg narrows his eyes. The kwami knows that Adrien is about to say something stupid before he even says it.

“Do you ever wonder if I’m cut out to be Chat Noir?”

“Do you?” Plagg asks instead of answering, because if Plagg were ever helpful and informative, the very world might end.

“I’m asking you right now, aren’t I?” Adrien leans back in his computer chair, head lolling back even as he side eyes his kwami.

“Yeah, and it’s stupid.”

“Plagg,” Adrien sighs out, obviously exasperated.

“What would you do if I said you weren’t?” Plagg floats lazily across the room, but he doesn’t miss Adrien’s attention snapping to him.

“I- what?”

“What if I just told you that yeah, you’re a terrible Chat Noir?” He dives into Adrien’s bag, rummaging around as if he weren’t tormenting the poor boy.

“I… hadn’t thought about it.”

“So why are you even asking?” His voice is muffled through the fabric, but Adrien’s answering groans let him know he’s been heard.

“I guess I just… I’ve been used against Ladybug more than once. She’s had to fight me. I made things harder for her.”

Plagg emerges from the bag, clutching a piece of cheese he had hidden away earlier. “Yeah. And?”

“Isn’t that the opposite of what I’m supposed to do? Chat Noir is Ladybug’s partner, not her enemy.”

Plagg shoves all of the cheese into his mouth before responding. He makes sure he’s swallowed all of it before speaking, if only to make sure he doesn’t lose any cheese. “None of that was your fault though.”

“If I hadn’t been caught, maybe-”

“Well I guess half the time you’re the one jumping in front of those attacks. So it might be your fault.”

Adrien sits up a little straighter, frowning. “I was protecting her.”

“Why?” Plagg asks, as if he doesn’t know the saccharine answer Adrien is about to give.

“I love her,” he states simply. “More than anything.”

Plagg shrugs. “There's your answer then. Would you ever really give up Chat Noir?”

Adrien’s voice sounds almost ashamed. “Not if it meant losing her.”

“Then stop thinking so much.”

Adrien looks like he has more he wants to say, but he seems to realize he’s argued himself into a corner. Cut out for it or not, he isn’t going to give it up, so it’s a moot point.

He thinks it makes him selfish. Plagg thinks it means that there could be no better Chat Noir.

 

 

> _Fact: The role of Chat Noir lent itself to selfless, virtuous people who gave themselves to the cause and understood their role with heavy hearts. But the best Chat Noirs were the selfish ones, the ones who latched onto their partners with everything they had, integrated Ladybug into their own souls and then fought tooth and nail to keep her._


	2. Chloe

> _Fact: Chloe’s favorite color was yellow. She liked the way it complimented her hair and eyes. But as far as she was concerned, every color looked good on her, so that didn't matter much. No, she especially liked yellow because it was a color most other people looked bad in. Even Chloe knew that you can't claim an entire color as your own, but hell if she wasn't going to try. And the less competition, the better._ **  
> **

 

Chloe walks into the school, head held higher than normal. That morning she had looked in the mirror and decided that her hair looked softer and healthier today, and she’s let it go to her head. Even as she slipped into her favorite yellow outfit, she had kept sneaking glances over at the mirror. In a spur of the moment decision, she had let her hair down, the soft tresses cascading down her shoulders and framing her face. In another spur of the moment decision, she slips a pink flower into her hair, holding back her bangs. After all, it would be a tragedy if any part of her face was obscured to the world.

She doesn’t think too much of these decisions other than the fact that she feels confident and pretty. Not that she doesn’t normally, but sometimes she likes a surge of confidence.

As she walks into school with Sabrina trailing behind her, she notices with delicious satisfaction that more heads turn towards her, eyes linger on her longer. She normally doesn’t like looking too soft and feminine, because it gives people the wrong idea, but even Chloe sometimes wants to be girly. Her normal outfits were fashionable, attention grabbing, and sleek, but something in her prodded her towards the sweet pink flower in her hair today.

Either way, she looks and feels good, so if she has to take charge a little more today to remind others that she’s not one to be trampled on, so be it.

Chloe hears her voice before she sees her, and she can already feel her perfectly glossed lips pulling into a grimace. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is already in her seat, early for once, and Chloe barely contains a sneer as she passes her on her way to her seat.

The other girl’s hair is down, as it has been ever since the first time she had worn it down and Adrien had complimented her. Chloe thinks she would have been better off emulating Ladybug than trying to win Adrien’s attention. But that girl would try anything, so Chloe can’t say she’s surprised.

Sabrina is saying something, but Chloe can’t be bothered to listen, so she examines her nails, keeping an eye on the doorway. She’s not waiting for anyone, but she looks up as soon as Adrien enters, smile on her face and his name on her lips.

But she stops herself, halfway out of her seat.

Because his eyes aren’t on her. They’re on Marinette.

He greets her with a shy smile and she greets him with a smile that’s almost a smirk, and something coils in Chloe’s stomach.

She pushes herself the rest of the way out of her chair, finishing the aborted movement from before, and launches herself towards Adrien with a call of, “Adriiiieeeen!”

She latches onto his arm and smiles up at him, waiting for him to tell her how pretty she looks, but he just gently smiles and pulls her hands off of him. “Good morning, Chloe.”

Chloe flutters her lashes and smiles just a little bit wider, her hands finding his arm again. “You’ll never guess what happened! Daddy said-”

She’s cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and she turns to meet Marinette’s glare with her own poisonous look. Marinette breaks their eye contact to give Adrien a significant look, and when Chloe follows the look Adrien is looking at her with a guilty smile and pulling her hands off of him again. But this time he takes a step away, and the coil in Chloe’s stomach is back. She hates the way it makes her entire being feel wrong, and she pushes the feeling from inside of her and into her words. “Excuse me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she spits, as if the girl’s very name is an insult, “I don’t think you were invited to this conversation.”

A triumphant look enters Marinette’s eyes, and the coil in Chloe’s stomach tightens before she even speaks. “I think it becomes my problem when someone is hanging all over my boyfriend.”

“What?” Chloe hisses, turning to look at Adrien, waiting for him to deny that stupid girl’s delusions. Instead he just smiles that guilty smile and rubs at the back of his neck, and Chloe’s eyes widen in anger. “Why?” she asks, and the question comes out sounding more hurt than angry, so Chloe steels her gaze and clenches her fist to compensate.

“Because I like her, Chloe. It’s pretty simple,” he says gently, his hands held out as if trying to calm a wild animal. And maybe it’s to make up for the pink flower in her hair, the soft tresses framing her face and making her look younger, but Chloe decides that if he wants a wild animal, he’d going to get one.

She snarls, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Did she blackmail you? Is that why you’re doing what she asks?” She hasn’t forgotten his step away, and she hasn’t forgotten the look Marinette gave him before he took it.

“No,” he says gently, and it makes Chloe’s hair stand on end at the softness she sees in his eyes. “No, I’m dating her of my own free will. She’s uncomfortable with people hanging on me and… I am, too. But nothing else really has to change.”

Chloe catches the proud look in Marinette’s eyes and the coil snaps, and suddenly she realizes she’s blinking back tears. She growls and shoves Adrien out of the way as she storms out of the room. She doesn’t know where she’s going or what she’s about to do, but she does know she has to get rid of that stupid pink flower and pull her hair into her normal ponytail.

She’s already disgusted with the entire situation, but she blames the change in hairstyle for the way she acted. She wasn’t herself. She shouldn’t have tried to mess with perfection.

As she throws the flower in the trash, wiping away hot tears, Chloe wonders why she even wore it. Yellow is her color, not pink.

 

> _Fact: One day, seemingly out of the blue, Chloe purged her closet of the color pink. She almost got rid of the blue as well, but her fingers curled into a fist as she decided that blue was her color to claim just as much as anyone else. It was just another thing she’d have to win back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Chloe is my trash daughter and it's my mission to see her characterized properly in fanfic


	3. Gabriel

> _Fact: Gabriel never wanted to be a father. He didn’t think he was suited for it. He didn’t consider himself a cruel man, but he knew he was logical and strict and lacked all of the warmth the stereotypical father figure had. Because he knew he wasn’t suited for the role, he hadn’t intended to have children. But he also didn’t intend for_ her _to happen. Any time he tried to tell her his concerns (_ not fears, concerns _, he would correct her), she would wave him off and insist that he didn’t know what he was talking about, and that they would raise the perfect son because they would be perfect parents. And for a long time, he believed her. For a long time, he loved his family and he thought that what he could give his son and wife was enough. For a long time, he thought he could be the father he never saw himself as._
> 
> _But that was before she disappeared._

 

Gabriel stands, hands clasped behind his back, studying the painting of his wife. It’s a place he’s found himself in a lot lately, whenever there was a moment to spare in his schedule. He hears a door opening behind him, and his eyes flick behind him, but he does not yet turn. It is only when he hears the tentative voice of his son that he makes a move.

“Father?”  Adrien asks, and his voice is low and shaky. Gabriel turns, eyes landing first on a picture of his son and then the boy himself, and the way his eyes study the ground confirm what his voice had already given away. He’s nervous about something.

“Yes?” Gabriel asks, his voice carefully neutral. Nevertheless, Adrien still flinches just a little, and Gabriel’s trained eye catches it whether he wants to or not. He straightens his spine and pulls his shoulders back.

“I… I was hoping to discuss the trip again.”

Gabriel’s expression hardens, and his voice is just a degree colder when he speaks. “I am not a inconstant man, Adrien. My answer has not changed.”

“But father, Nino’s parents promised-”

“I do not care what they have arranged. Four teenagers on a trip with minimal supervision and no protection is unacceptable. And you already know my feelings about the boy.”

“But Marinette’s parents have family in town, Alya’s parents have to look after her sisters, it’s Nino’s parents anniversary, and Nathalie has other duties.”

“Pick another weekend.”

“There _are_ no other weekends! You should know that I don’t have another free weekend until summer.”

Gabriel sighs, resisting the urge to run his hand down his face. It stays clasped behind his back. “We have already had this discussion. I assume you have new information, or Nathalie should not have sent you to me.”

Adrien deflates for just a moment, and then starts again. “Well, not exactly, but Father-”

“This is a waste of my time and yours, Adrien. You aren’t going.” Gabriel turns around to signal the end of the conversation.

He’s stopped with a hand gripping his wrist. He turns around to see Adrien, annoyance on his face for a split second before it morphs into confusion and then apology, the latter change coming with freedom for his hand. Adrien’s hand releases him slowly, and then curls back into a fist. Gabriel manages to watch this entire display without giving himself away, but his surprise can’t be concealed as Adrien darkly whispers, “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No,” Adrien repeats, louder this time, and the annoyance is back in Adrien’s face. “I do everything you ask, I’m _perfect_ for you, and I just want this one thing. This one weekend to pretend I can be a normal boy and enjoy my life while I still can, and you can’t take it away from me.” His voice is slowly getting stronger, and Gabriel reins himself in. He’ll let the boy finish before responding. “I never asked for this kind of life, but I do it for _you_ , and yet you still don’t trust me to spend a weekend going camping with my friends! I’m not skipping anything, I’m not missing anything important, I’m just not going to be under your thumb for all of two days, and you can’t stand that. I’m not a _child_ anymore, Father!” He doesn’t shout the last sentence, but with the defiance in his eyes that isn’t fading, he might as well have.

Gabriel shakes his head. “You are obviously still a child if you’re going to throw fits.” He’s surprised that Adrien would defy him in this way. His eyes flit to Adrien’s ring finger before settling back on his eyes. The boy has changed, and it hurts him in so many ways. “It would be irresponsible of me to allow you to travel without supervision. This is for your protection, Adrien. You don’t have to understand it for it to be the right decision. My mind is unchanged.”

The light flares in Adrien’s eyes at Gabriel’s lack of response to his emotional appeal. But Gabriel knows how to play this game better than his young son.

“Fine,” Adrien finally says. Defiant, but resigned. Gabriel figures it’s as good as he can get.

As Adrien walks out of the room, he contemplates for a moment whether he should apologize.

He doesn’t.

For all that Adrien is good at, protecting himself seems to be a lost concept on the boy. He would understand eventually. Gabriel reminds himself that even if he doesn’t, his decisions are for the greater good. He doesn’t want to hurt his son, but a small injury to prevent a larger one is a logical trade.

He reminds himself of this again, and then looks to rearrange Nathalie’s schedule for the weekend.

 

> _Fact: Gabriel didn’t consider himself a cruel man. But he had long since learned that things never stay the way they are for long, and he had resigned himself to the flow of the world. And he had already been something he never thought he could be because of her once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *references Gabriel is Hawk Moth but only really really vaguely because I'm highkey in denial*


	4. Adrien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first wrote this, it was a lot angstier on Adrien's part. But then I realized that Adrien is still too hopeful to ever really get that down about his situation. Like, he's sad I'm sure, but he's still willing to attempt to run off to school. He still tries and hopes and fights. So I rewrote it, and it got all hopeful and sunshiny. Dang it Adrien.

> _Fact: Adrien was a model, not an actor. But he always thought that he must have some acting talent, because no one had discovered that inside the outer shell of Adrien Agreste- perfect student, model, son- there lived a completely different boy, counting the hours on his fingers but keeping his hands close to his chest. He woke up as one person, but as soon as he left the cold sanctum of his room, he was performing. There was no script, but there might as well have been, because he had his part down to a science._

 

“Thank you, Nathalie,” Adrien says, smiling up at the woman. She looks down at him with the same controlled expression as always, and Adrien reins in his own smile until it’s an appropriate size. Even so, he can’t help but feel gratitude for what she did for him. Whether it was _for him_ or not. Sometimes he couldn’t tell. “Really, thank you.”

The woman nods, a curt acknowledgement that Adrien likes to think means she’s a little embarrassed, not mad or annoyed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she finally says, and turns on her heel and walks away.

Every step she takes, Adrien’s smile grows just a little wider until he sports a giant grin, and his focus quickly shifts to his hand as his thoughts shift to his new secret.

He stares down at the ring on his finger with a giddy smile on his face, not even aware of his ridiculous expression until the voice of Plagg cuts through his thoughts.

“You’re scaring me, with your face like that.”

Adrien doesn’t even falter, just looks up at Plagg with the same smile. Plagg makes a face.

“Seriously, stop it.”

“You know, I haven’t gotten to have any fun with this yet. With all of Paris turning to stone and all.” Adrien’s smile only grows wider, if that’s even possible, and the shine of an idea enters his eyes.

“Stiiiiill don’t like this.”

“Plagg, transform me!”

As Plagg is pulled into the ring, he yells something that sounds distinctly disgruntled, but Adrien isn’t listening. He feels the power course through him and immediately runs to his bathroom, prying open a window and swinging into the open air. His baton extends and hits the ground, keeping him aloft, and a whoop rings out into the night air as one of Paris’ brand new heroes flies over the rooftops.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he doesn’t care. He goes where the wind carries him, until it eventually carries him up to the top of the Arc de Triomphe. He stands proud, surveying the city he now protects, and a feline possessiveness grips him for a moment. Paris is now _his_ city, under _his_ protection.

And Ladybug’s, of course. But sharing it with her made everything sweeter.

Chat Noir throws his arms up into the air, legs planted shoulder width beneath him, and the giddy smile is back in full force. He shouts his happiness into the air, he lets himself take up as much space as he wants, he smiles like a fool and falls down with as much grace as a newborn giraffe, and it’s never too much, because there is so much space in the city, but he’s not sure he’ll ever feel lonely again, with all of Paris here for him.

He stares up at the stars, breathing heavily and still smiling like a madman, and he’s certain that something changes in that moment. His life is already changing, but maybe this time the change was in him.

Or maybe the night air is getting to him. He sits up, pulling his baton out and taking one last look towards the horizon.

The whole world is all before him.

He zips off into the night again, wondering what will come next.

 

> _Fact: When Adrien was given a ring and everything changed, his ideas of himself as an actor faltered. After all, truly good actors didn’t drop character when faced with a new prop and a costume change. But as the Parisian night air flowed around him and through him, awakening long dead sensations in a wellspring of feeling, he decided he never wanted to be an actor anyway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I hate Paradise Lost  
> Me: *references Paradise Lost*


	5. Marinette

> _Fact: Marinette moved with the easy grace only the truly clumsy could ever obtain. What looked like erratic movements were really just the steps of a modern dance in fast forward, and one can only ever learn by practice. Her hands learn to flow and curve and her back learned to arch and twist before her brain learned to slow down, but eventually everything clicked into place and the uncoordinated girl became an elegant woman. People said it happened suddenly, that she became graceful in-between steps, but those people were not watching close enough._ **  
>  **

 

“You know, this yoyo is surprisingly easy to use,” Marinette says right before her yoyo fails to hit its mark, because sometimes life enjoys comedic timing.

It takes one second to realize she’s free falling, five seconds of retracting the yoyo and fumbling around, and another two seconds to throw it again before she’s safe. It connects this time, and she’s swinging again after less than ten seconds of falling, but she has to stop on the next rooftop because it wasn’t just ten seconds of falling. It was ten seconds of blind panic and surging adrenaline and just enough time to think _How much is this going to hurt?_

She sits, because her legs are too shaky to stand on, and she takes a deep breath. Logically, she knows there’s nothing to panic about. She knows that as Ladybug, it would barely hurt, much less do any lasting damage.

But her sympathetic nervous system doesn’t really care for her logic, and her heart continues pounding as the hormones flooding system scream _You almost died!_ at her. And even though she knows she didn’t, even though she knows she fixed the problem before it even was one, she still can’t hold back the low groan that escapes as she flops back onto the roof, throwing an arm over her eyes.

She releases the transformation, and Tikki spins into the open air, looking at Marinette with big eyes. “Are we taking a break?”

“I still don’t get why I was chosen,” Marinette answers, not even bothering to ease into the conversation. “I’m a total klutz. This is a bad idea.”

Tikki laughs gently. “You’re still new to using the yoyo. You just made a little mistake, and you saved yourself, too!”

“I know,” Marinette says on a shaking inhale, “but what if I mess up in the middle of a battle? Trip over my own two feet or throw the yoyo too short and fall and someone gets hurt because of me?”

“Then you keep going and you make up for the mistake. And you keep trying!”

“But what if trying isn’t enough?”

“Trying is always enough!”

Marinette turns her head and lets her arm fall to the side, blue eyes meeting blue. “That can’t be true.”

Tikki smiles down at Marinette. “Why not?”

“Because if trying was always enough, no one would ever fail.”

Tikki hums, considering. “Maybe not. But for you, for this, it is.”

Marinette doesn’t reply, she just stares at Tikki. “I’m not coordinated enough to be superhero,” she finally says.

“You weren’t chosen because of your grace!” Marinette takes a moment to decide if she should be offended. Tikki just giggles and continues. “You were chosen because of your willingness to help people. That will is all you need. You don’t have to be perfect, because you’ll never be alone! It’s okay to mess up, because there will be people to catch you when you fall.”

“What if Chat Noir isn’t there?”

“You still have me! Don’t forget about me just because I’m always with you.”

Marinette holds her hands out and Tikki flies into them, and she cradles her kwami close as she replies, “I could never forget you, Tikki.”

“Ready to be Ladybug again?”

“Ready for anything.”

Tikki smiles. “That’s the spirit!”

Marinette shoots a grin back in return. “Tikki! Transform me!”

 

> _Fact: Marinette never really knew where she gained the fluidity she held in her stance later in life. She was close when she claimed that once you fall enough, you stop fearing the ground and learn to enjoy the flying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda just forgot to upload this one- it's been written for a while. Nino should be next, eventually! Probably! I kinda have no idea what to write for him BUT YOU KNOW.... WHATEVER. IT'S FINE.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a certain headcanon or character you want to see next? Leave a comment or message me at @polkadottedluckycharm on tumblr!
> 
> Thank you for reading <33


End file.
